


listen before i go

by kaleleafs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arc Reactor Issues, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Depressed Tony Stark, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Domestic Violence, Eating Disorders, Enemies to Friends, Fix-It of Sorts, Guilty Tony Stark, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insomniac Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Other, POV Multiple, Past Abuse, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Past Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Nightmares, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Still Has Arc Reactor, Tony Stark is not okay, Triggers, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, but it's okay he gets better, hopefully, i love to hurt tony, not team Cap friendly, possibly, referenced suicide attempt in chapter two, some tvd dialogue, the titles are a billie eilish song
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2020-12-16 18:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleleafs/pseuds/kaleleafs
Summary: What's that saying? Insanity is doing the same things and expecting different results? Just goes to show that Tony should've seen this coming. Somehow, he never sees it coming.





	1. sorry can't save me now

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! this story is a result of me being heavily on team tony for cacw and not understanding how everyone was content to let him move on from being beaten up in a siberian bunker! as of now i'm thinking this will be four or five chapters, but that'll all depend on how i end up writing it. i have a general idea but always end up changing my mind.
> 
> WARNINGS:
> 
> tony is super depressed in this and not many people bother to look deeper into it and check up on how he's doing. he is not in a good place mentally and does have suicidal thoughts throughout chapter one. if self-loathing, depression or suicidal thoughts are a trigger for you, please, please just avoid this story altogether as it gets worse before it gets better. suicide is not the answer and no one should have to struggle through depression alone.
> 
> thanks for sticking with me guys, i hope you enjoy xx

It hurts. Everything hurts. Which, when one has a relatively large electromagnet in the center of their chest carving out part of their lungs, it generally always hurts. Even when it's not there, the feeling remains. So this isn't anything new, really. Breathing is a chore, stretching causes fire to erupt in his chest and don't even get him started on coughing.

But he's alive. Which is more than his parents can say.

He can walk and run and jump. Which is more than Rhodey can say.

So really, he shouldn't be complaining.

"I'm not sure you're understanding how serious this matter is, Mr. Stark."

Ah, Helen Cho. Brilliant mind and an even more brilliant woman. He should listen to her. He _is_ listening to her.

"I understand exactly what you're saying, Ms. Cho."

Deep breaths, in and out. Ignore the ache in the chest like it's not there, like it didn't have a shield wedged in it mere hours ago. In and out.

"I understand that you're in shock-"

"I'm not in shock. I know what's happening here."

Because why would he be in shock over his... it doesn't matter who he is, Tony thinks. It'll never be the same now. Now that he came in direct contact with the same hands that killed his parents, the same hands that wrapped around his mother's neck squeezing, _squeezing_-

Tony is not in shock.

"The vibranium cut through the iron of your suit-"

"Gold titanium alloy."

"Excuse me?"

"The suit isn't iron, technically it's gold titanium alloy. I don't know who coined the name 'Iron Man' but-"

"The vibranium cut through the _gold titanium alloy_ of your suit and slivers of that metal ended up in your chest, Mr. Stark."

And wow, isn't he just having a day? It's all been one big deja vu moment where sand and snow are meeting in his mind— Tony has to fight a laugh when he realizes that, at this rate, there won't be a single season that doesn't send him into a panic attack. Because, at the end of the day, it really is the same, isn't it?

Lying there with metal in his chest from something he'd created, staring at a dark bunker that slowly started to resemble a cave, letting the feeling of betrayal and absolute defeat sweat down his face— or is that water because hadn't they just been shoving his head under water moments ago? The terrorists are shoving his head under water and that has to be why he can't breathe. 

And now, being told the metal from his suit, the one that's supposed to save him for crying out loud, is slowly making its way to his heart? That they're going to have to reinsert the arc reactor into his chest to keep him alive?

Really, Tony doesn't know whether to laugh or cry at this point.

What's that saying? Insanity is doing the same things over and over again but expecting different results?

\- - - - - -

Tony doesn't freak out when it's announced that the rogue Avengers are returning. He doesn't. It's been a year and the tower is long since empty— Tony himself doesn't even live there anymore. It's all for the best; personal items have been shipped overseas or packed away in storage and Tony... he bounces around from place to place. One can only stand the sight of abandoned floors and empty rooms for so long before caving.

But no. Tony is over it.

He can barely feel the metal in his chest— except when he can, but even that isn't really new. And he's long over the feeling of being trapped in a coffin of his own creation, metal weighing him down, damp snow nipping at his skin, his own blood staining the ground red.

He's moved on from that kind of pain, overwhelmed by the pain of memory instead. It's unhealthy and pathetic but, then again, Tony has always been a masochist. He doesn't pause over memories of sand and snow, rather ones of whispered words at dawn, of intimate nights in. Artist's hands on his skin, lingering glances where blue meets brown. That same blue above him, cold and calculating as the shield slices through his suit.

A letter and a phone with words Tony doesn't understand and apologies he doesn't believe.

He'd rather take a beating over and over again than have "Tony's greatest hits" playing on repeat in his head. After all, the body can heal but the mind...

He can practically see Howard turning in his grave, can hear his patronizing laughter. _You should have known better, boy. How could you be so naïve?_

For some reason those words are accompanied by the image of Obie standing over him, smirk on his face, arc reactor in hand.

Shield slicing down.

The elevator door opens with a ding.

"I'm fine," Tony says because there's only one person it could be and they'll take it for the lie it is anyways.

"I wasn't going to ask."

And bless Rhodey for just knowing— the same way he knew Tony was sleeping with Tiberius Stone in college, the same way he know how bad he was for him, the same way he knows Tony's greatest enemy is his own mind.

Tony swirls the whiskey around in the tumbler one more time before sitting it down on the coffee table untouched. He can't drink anymore. Apparently the re-addition of an electromagnet into the heart will do that to a man. It's tempting though, despite the consequences. Maybe even more tempting because of them.

He turns and straightens out his jacket; it a different kind of armor, perhaps even a more important one. Villains are easy, it's the real people that are hard.

"You ready to go, boss?"

"Are you?" Rhodey challenges, shifting his weight on the prosthetics. The dress pants hide them well but Tony knows they're there, the constant _I did this_ on loop in his mind.

"Sure," Tony swallows unsure why he's even telling the lie when Rhodey sees right through him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"We don't have to go. We can skip it, take the jet and get the hell out of dodge."

And, shit, he must look really horrible if _Rhodey_— Rhodey who spent the entirety of his 20s keeping Tony on track, herding him into classes and meetings like stray cattle— is suggesting they don't attend the ceremony.

"You always know just what to say, honeybear, but I'm afraid this one is unavoidable."

"They're like stray cats," Rhodey complains, throwing an arm around Tony's shoulder and guiding— herding, always herding— him to the elevator. "Feed them once and they just keep coming back demanding more."

That warrants a surprised laugh from Tony (and, honestly, when is the last time he _laughed_?) "Funny, because it feels more like I'm about to be thrown to the wolves."

Rhodey squeezes his shoulder and Tony leans into the easy affection without a fight— he has a feeling he'll need to save all his fight for later.

"Not on my watch."

Crazy thing is, Tony believes him.

\- - - - - -

The "welcome back, traitors" ceremony goes without a hitch as far as the media is concerned. Tony shook hands, he smiled, he acted like everything was _fine_. It's _fine_ that his former teammates will be moving into the compound, it's _fine_ that they're expected to be a team again and it's _definitely fine_ that they're bringing one James Buchanan Barnes along with them.

Totally, 100% fine.

Or, that's what Tony tells himself wide awake in the workshop at 2 a.m. And it's not like Tony can be mad, he's brought it on himself. He pushes people away, or, at least, moves the inevitable along faster. He pushes people away until the only thing between them is distance and the lingering question of _what if_. In the end, everyone leaves -- what's it matter if Tony makes it happen quicker than it might on its own? You can't miss something you never had in the first place.

So, Tony can't be mad that this is where he's at now; alone, in the lab with nothing but his own creations to keep him company. He can't be mad that Rhodey isn't here, that his promises of togetherness and unity don't always meet their mark. Rhodey's doing what he can, which is more than everyone else can say and more than Tony deserves.

Tony is meant to be alone. How is Rhodey supposed to understand the way he had to suppress a flinch when he looked into Steve's eyes, the way the Captain's hand felt ice-cold in his grip? Tony can't share the guilt he felt when looked upon by Clint's accusatory glare, the distrustful itch of his skin caused by a flash of red hair, the emptiness and shame that left him breathless even as Barnes refused to meet his eyes.

The fear clenching at his heart at Wanda's knowing smirk.

He couldn't possibly share nightmares of destruction, of people lost, wouldn't dream of putting that weight and pain and grief on his best friend's shoulders.

So he bares it alone because that's what he's always known and that's how it's meant to be. Stark's are made of iron, after all. He won't break. He can't.

And, two days later, when Pepper appears to tell him he's required at a council meeting, takes one look at him and asks if he's eaten, if he's slept, if he's _okay_, Tony lies.

"I'm fine, Pep, stop your mother-henning and tell me who requires my genius this time."

And that's that.

\- - - - - -

The media calls it a divorce: Steve got the kids and Tony got the house, which Tony finds hilarious because are they really that far off?

He wonders what they'd say if they got ahold of the letter.

_We all need family. The Avengers are yours. Maybe more so than mine._

It makes Tony want to laugh with how untrue that seems to be. He supposes Steve doesn't understand that family always lets Tony down.

_If you need us, if you need me, I'll be there._

Tony thinks of Steve moving back into the compound with the rest of their old team and knows that all he ended up with is a new reactor and some scars. Steve ended up with everything.

\- - - - - -

The team meetings are the worst. He can hear their voices in his head whenever they look at him. He barely makes eye contact knowing they'll mistake the lack of eye contact as Tony's supposed-superiority rather than his cowardice. He isn't sure whether to be grateful or resentful of that fact.

He has to walk past each of them to the head of the table, he's always at the head of the table, like he's on trial. They say nothing, but he hears them anyways.

He wonders what his therapist would say if she knew he can hear their voices in his head when he sees them, can picture the exact moment they went from teammates to strangers. Sometimes, he tries to defend himself against their words. Sometimes, he has the battles in his own mind. Always at war, the Merchant of Death is. Howard always did say that he had war in his heart.

Clint is the first one he passes on the way to his seat and Tony can't help but picture a time when they were stumbling down Fifth Avenue after one too many drinks, high off of defeating whatever villain of the month had struck that time. Clint was a friend, Clint was family.

_The Futurist, Gentlemen! The Futurist is here! He sees all! He knows what's best for you whether you like it or not._

Tony wanted to protect them. Of course he did. But never in a million years would he have guessed that the thing to break up the Avengers would be paperwork. He just wanted people to stop getting hurt, to stop losing their lives. He wanted them to stop being the people causing it.

_You better watch your back with this guy, there's a chance he's going to break it._

He spares a glance at Clint, the pure hatred in his gaze making Tony want to retrace his steps right back out the door. Clint doesn't look broken, he concludes. He looks angry. Tony thinks he'd know the difference between the two, what with being so shattered to pieces himself.

Scott is next and his glares hurt the least, even though Tony decides that they're warranted. Because of the whole thing in Germany, Lang isn't allowed to see his daughter. He's unsure of how that's his fault, though; Tony swears that if he had a child he'd do everything in his power to be the best he could for them.

_Pym always said never to trust a Stark._

Tony doesn't really blame Scott for the hostility, though he does wonder what he did that was so untrustworthy. Following the law? Signing the Accords? Trying to do the right thing? That's Tony for you-- always trying but never succeeding. Tony supposes he wouldn't trust himself either, what with his inability to do anything right.

_Are you incapable of letting go our your ego for one god damn second?_

Tony doesn't feel so much like a renowned billionaire, genius, play boy, philanthropist this second. He feels much more like the scared little kid he always was when facing those more powerful than him. It's pathetic. It makes him feel small. Though, he supposes that Natasha always did know how to get under his skin. Decades of spying will do that to a person. Maybe that's why it hurts so much, because she _knew_ it would. Maybe that's why it still hurts so much that he can feel her eyes on him, still trying to pick him apart without bothering to pick up the pieces.

_I'm not the one who needs to watch their back._

He used to think that they were friends-- two souls too screwed up to figure out how to put themselves back together. Now he just thinks that if she really wanted to come after him, she would. And he'd let her do it, too.

And then he makes it to Steve. Steve with his innocent blue eyes and otherworldly complexion, who could, just by looking at them, make a person feel like they're so much more than they are. He always did have a way of doing that, inspiring such fierce devotion and dedication in a person. Hell, he did it with the Avengers.

He never did it with Tony.

_You might not be a threat but you better stop pretending to be a hero._

Sometimes Tony wonders if he was ever a hero in Steve's eyes. Was flying the nuke into the wormhole not enough? Because Tony would hand over his life if that was what Steve wanted. he could never tell what Steve wanted, but he tried to be it anyways. Less drinking, less hours in the work shop, better language, better eating, anything if it would make Steve happy. He thought Steve was happy. He thought _he_ made Steve happy.

_I'm trying to stop you from breaking up the Avengers. You did that when you signed._

Apparently, Steve was never happy, could never be proud of anything Tony did. He's a screw-up and ended up doing the one thing he tried desperately not to do-- break up their family. Seems _together_ never really applied to Tony, anyways.

And when he finally passes Barnes, squished between Wilson and Steve, it all makes sense. He has to swallow the guilt that rises like bile in his throat because who in their right mind attacks a POW who was tortured and mind-wiped? Like a prayer, the five words Barnes said to him play over and over in his head.

_I remember all of them._

Yeah, Tony deserves all of this. He brought this on himself.

By the time he gets to his seat, he's far too tired to contribute to the meeting, far too tired to do anything more than nod when necessary and seem partially invested.

He just wants to know when it will all end.

\- - - - - -

The nights are always worse when he's forced to stay at the compound with the rest of them. The Accords Council deemed it necessary for Tony to live with the rest of the "team" for majority of the week until they're able to function again, which pretty much means indefinitely. Tony doesn't want them to function again.

Tony doesn't really want anything anymore, except maybe some peace.

He thinks about that as he sits on the roof. It's more of a balcony, actually, that overlooks the Hudson river. It's nice and he's glad he designed it this way. When he just looks out at the water, it's almost enough to dispel nightmares of blue eyes and soft touches turned vicious, white snow turned red and shields turned into weapons.

Sometimes, when he gets like this, it's impossible to turn it off. He can't stop thinking of all the ways he's let people down, all the ways he isn't enough.

_If you cared, you'd actually be here!_

Peter.

_You don't deserve to wear one of these._

Rhodey.

_I know men with none of that worth ten of you._

Steve, it always comes back to Steve.

He breathes, looks at the water, looks at the ground. It's certainly a long way down for an ordinary man without any armor.

_You're going to kill yourself, Tony. I won't be a part of it._

With Pepper's words from oh-so long ago ringing in his head, he breathes in and out once. In and out twice. Looks down. Turns around. Goes inside to live another day. 


	2. sorry i don't know how

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's tired of fighting the war between life and death when there's such a thin line between the two. Tony doesn't know what it says about him that both his dreams and his reality are filled with nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter digs a little deeper into tony's opinions of himself and about the way he's living. there are multiple mentions of tony taking antidepressants and anxiety medication and vague references to suicide. if this is a potential trigger for you, please, please do not read! your mental health is more important than this story :)

The worst part about living in the compound is having to see the rogue Avengers every single day. Some of them try to apologize (apologize meaning they say, "come on, Tony. You know you were wrong, let's just move on" and attempt to worm their way back into his life) and the others flat out glare at him. He prefers the glares, it's much easier to ignore someone who completely hates you and, oh, would Tony love to ignore them.

He has enough on his plate with the Accords Council pushing him for updates on the team's status and with developing a concrete plan on how they're going to be better (Tony thought that's what the Accords were for but what does he know). R&D is pushing for some new blueprints in ground breaking technology and, for once, Tony is so over coming up with ideas.

It's completely unlike him, so unlike him that Rhodey and Pepper are beginning to ask questions. Never in his life has he just not felt like creating. Creating has always been a sanctuary, a way to make instead of destroy, embrace life instead of death. Now, all he seems to want to do these days is sleep, but even that doesn't come when he wants it to. He supposes he's tired of fighting the war between life and death when there's such a thin line between the two. Tony doesn't know what it says about him that both his dreams and his reality are filled with nightmares.

His therapist says that's a symptom of the depression. Tony doesn't put much stock in other people's opinions.

He's so distracted counting the millions of things he has to do in his head and dreading each one of them that he doesn't notice Steve rounding the corner and heading right for him. Normally, when walking the compound halls, he's on the lookout for Steve, avoiding him at every twist and turn. It's one thing to face Steve in his dreams, soft and pliant and so, so loving, but it's a whole other thing to face Steve in reality. It's cold and he hates it. He guesses it was only a matter of time before Tony would run into him, that seems to be how his life is going.

"Tony, can we talk?"

Tony supposes that the one good thing to come out of this ordeal is that Steve's puppy dog eyes no longer make him want to bend over to his every whim. No, now the icy blue shoots stone cold fear into his heart. It's not better.

"I can't right now, Rogers. I have a meeting with the Accords Council in ten minutes."

Which is actually not a lie. True, Tony is absolutely dreading the meeting which is bound to be filled with another list of things for him to accomplish, but anything is better than dealing with Steve. Not to mention that just looking at Steve is sending chills down his spine, and not the kind that comes from soft touches and stolen kisses. He pushes the feeling away. Strong. Stark men are made of iron.

"Are you trying to punish me? Because I don't know how many times I can apologize."

Apologize, blame Tony, it's all the same in the end. If that's Rogers' definition of apologizing, than even Barton has apologized at this point.

"I never asked you to, Rogers." Because why would Tony ask any of them to apologize when he so clearly deserves everything that's happening to him? If he had done more, been better, none of this would be happening. "You can do whatever you want, I don't care."

But Steve, ever determined, doesn't stop there. Once upon a time, Tony would've swooned at being the lone object of Steve's attention. Now it just makes him sick to his stomach.

"You're hurt. You're hurt and you're acting out, Tony, this isn't you."

And there it is. When Tony's in love with Steve he's not happy, when Tony's not in love with Steve he's still not happy. Tony will just never be enough in the eyes of Steve Rogers, which isn't exactly a surprise. Didn't Howard spend a good portion of his life drilling that exact thing into Tony's head? _Captain America would be disappointed in you, you're not good enough, you're not smart enough, you're not strong enough_. Tony is so god damn tired of never being enough.

The truth of the matter is that Tony has no clue who he is anymore. He spent so much time trying to please everyone, trying to make them happy and give them everything they need that he can't honestly remember the last time he did something for himself. Realizing it wasn't even worth it in the end is just icing on top of the fucked up cake.

"Sure it is. You've just never seen me like this. You don't know what I look like when I'm not in love with you."

That, at least, seems to render Steve speechless and gives Tony just enough time to get away. He hopes Steve doesn't hear how fast his heart is beating, see how badly his hands are shaking. His breath is beginning to come out in pants and he feels himself teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack. Weak. Fuck, he's so weak.

He almost runs into Barnes on his way to the elevator and, after everything, still can't bring himself to look into the innocent man's eyes without thinking of all the wrong Tony did to him. Great, just another person the Merchant of Death almost slaughtered thoughtlessly. As if he needed another thing to worry about.

"Sorry," he gasps, because he is sorry and not just for bumping into him, but doesn't bother to stick around for Barnes' reaction as he stumbles into the elevator and slams on the close door button.

Tony wastes no time in sinking to his knees as his skin breaks out in a cold sweat... or is that water because weren't they just dunking his head under a few seconds ago? Or is it snow because he swears he was lying on a pile of it looking into cold azure eyes as the shield comes down, down, down straight into his chest. The reactor burns where it sits embedded in his lungs and the last coherent thought Tony has before he sinks into sheer panic is how much he just wants it all to end.

\- - - - - -

The panic attack eventually fades sometime around the point when he makes it back to the workshop. He supposes FRIDAY is learning really fast, either that or his tells are just that obvious. Probably a little of both.

When he feels stable enough to stand and check his phone he immediately wishes he didn't. There are about four missed calls from Pepper accompanied by double the amount of messages about missing the Accords meeting, a message from Ross probably about the same thing and a text from Rogers saying how inappropriate it is to bring their past relationship into the, and Tony quotes, "mess he caused with the Accords."

He takes a deep breath, ignores the tears pricking his eyes because he might be weak but he's not _that_ weak, and wills the shakiness in his hands to dissipate. He needs to call Pepper back, apologize or deflect or something. Normally, he could charm his way out of this. _Tony Stark_ can charm his way out of anything. That's what Stark men do: smile, flirt, wink and impress. But Tony, Tony doesn't have it in him to even try.

"FRI?" He can do this, he can do this.

"Yes, boss?"

"Patch me through to Pep, would you?"

"Boss, I'm not sure that's the best-"

"Just do it, FRI," he snaps, not meaning to raise his voice with an AI but how bad must he be if even his artificial intelligence is trying to intervene? He sinks into the nearest chair, fingers digging into his temples as the dial tone sounds. "Thanks, baby girl."

He's not sure what Pepper's going to say, though, he doesn't think she'll be pleased that's for sure. Moreover, he doesn't know what _he's_ going to say. Does he tell her the truth? _Hey, Pep, sorry I missed the meeting, I ran into Rogers and had a panic attack. _Yeah, right.

He doesn't have much time to think on it. Pepper picks up on the third ring.

"You have some serious explaining to do."

"I didn't mean to miss the meeting. I swear, I was on my way ten minutes before it even started! Me! Early!"

Pepper sighs and it's definitely not amused. "Well, clearly you didn't make it. What was it this time, Tony?"

Tony attempts to swallow down the small lump of hurt caused by the fact that Pepper expects him to miss the meeting, to not care.

"Something came up. It was urgent."

There, that's not a lie.

"It always is, Tony. When are you going to start taking responsibility for your actions? Sure, I knew what I was getting myself into as your PA but I'm CEO of a fortune-500 company, Tony! I don't have time to play phone tag with you and the Accords Council!"

He winces, never liking it when Pepper gets mad. He's already a disappointment to the team, the last thing he wants to do is be a disappointment to Pepper as well.

"I'm sorry, Pep, I really am. I'll make it up to you-"

"Oh, yes you will. Your meeting has been rescheduled to tomorrow. I don't care if you have plans or not, Tony, you will be at that meeting."

On that note, she hangs up.

Tony has specs due for an R&D project tomorrow.

Looks like he's not sleeping. Not that he'd be able to, anyways.

\- - - - - -

He emerges from the lab in the morning only because he has an appointment with his therapist at 10. Normally he'd just miss it, but with all he has going on, he really needs his medication refilled. 

He hopes nobody is in the compound when he goes to the kitchen to grab a water. He's started swearing off coffee despite the caffeine headaches, it makes his hands shake worse and he's already anxious enough.

Tony is already in a bad mood due to the fact that he's actually expected to interact with people today. It sounds exhausting. Tony is already exhausted. His mood plummets more when he hears people in the kitchen.

As if on cue, his hands start to tremble. It's getting harder to convince himself that he can tough out the day. If Howard could see him now.

He takes a shaky breath and enters the kitchen with his head down as he walks straight to the refrigerator. Don't make eye contact, don't cause any trouble, get in and out. That's all he wants to do. Hell, if he could swallow four pills dry he'd just skip the damn glass of water.

But he can't. He can feel the eyes on him instantly.

"Awh, look who decided to show his face. Here for a little _team bonding_, Stark?" Clint's sharp sarcasm causes Tony's shoulders to stiffen. Still, he goes about getting a cup and hopes he looks remotely normal.

"He'd much rather tear it down like he did with Ultron in Sokovia."

Wanda's voice is so cold it sends chills down his spine despite the fact that he's covered in three layers. He's always cold lately.

He wants to snark back, wants to yell that Wanda willingly helped HYDRA and Ultron yet they all welcomed her into _his tower_ with open arms. Yet, Tony is still getting scrutinized for a mistake, one he's more than owned up to. But he doesn't say that. He doesn't say anything. He's tired, he doesn't want to start something and he just wants to leave as soon as possible.

"What's wrong, Stark? Cat got your tongue?"

"Not that it's any of your business, Barton, but I have a meeting to get to." He's proud of the way his voice doesn't shake even if he feels like he could throw up at any given moment.

"Looking like that?" Tony turns just in time to see Steve wrinkle his nose in distaste. "Are you sure you're alright?"

The three of them all looking at him is doing things for his paranoia. He needs to run. Everything in him is saying get away and he's beyond pretending he's strong enough to fight that instinct.

"Yeah, just peachy, actually, I'm going to change right now."

As he exits the kitchen he hears Clint say "you can change the clothes but that doesn't change the man underneath them." All three of them laugh.

Tony throws back the pills and hurries to his room.

\- - - - - -

It's not that Tony doesn't like his therapist. He does. She's nice, really. Too nice. Sometimes, Tony doesn't think he's worthy of her help. He's got money, he's got resources, he's got intelligence, she must be thinking he's crazy for being so depressed.

He supposes it's just like Yinsen said. He's a man with everything and nothing.

"How much sleep did you get last night, Tony?"

He stares out the window. It's a long way down.

"I didn't."

"And why is that?"

He could tell her that, even if he wasn't busy, the nightmares wouldn't have allowed him to get more than an hour of sleep at the most. He could tell her that he's always cold, that the bunker might have left him permanently frozen. He could tell her that he spends the nights rethinking everything he said during the day making sure he didn't make a mistake, didn't disappoint someone else.

"I had a project to get done by this afternoon." He says instead. Even though it's not a lie, the way she looks at him makes him think otherwise. 

He's scared she can see right through him. He's scared she can see how little there is of him left.

"Do you ever feel as though you could say no to a project?"

"No."

If he doesn't do it, who will?

"Do you ever want to say no?"

"I don't know," Tony says honestly, feeling cold and detached. He feels like an intruder in his own body.

"What do you want then, Tony?"

What does he want? That's the ultimate question, isn't it? What can the man who has everything possibly want?

"I want to not feel like this. I want to be able to walk in my own home without being terrified everyday. I want a break. I want to be able to _sleep_," he gasps in short breaths. "I want it to all be over."

He can barely hear the sound of her pencil scratching something on the pad of paper over the blood rushing in his own ears. A few appointments ago, he would have cared about what she was writing about him, what she thought about him, but now he couldn't care less. He's too busy thinking that he'll get to leave soon.

He wonders when the last time he felt comfortable in a place was.

"Okay, Tony. I think you should start coming here two times a week. You'll need to schedule those appointments on the way out. I refilled your medications, if there are any problems or these thoughts become more prevalent than normal, I need you to call me, Tony, okay? You're not alone."

He almost laughs. Of course he's alone, he always has been and always will be.

"Okay. Thank you."

He feels her eyes on him as he leaves, he's so caught up in it that he runs straight into his therapist's next appointment.

And because he can never do anything right, he immediately starts apologizing. "God, I'm so sorry, I didn't even see you there-"

"It's okay." The voice is deep and familiar and, when Tony looks up, he finds himself starting into silver-blue eyes for the second time in 24 hours.

"Barnes," Tony blinks surprised and takes a few much needed steps back. "I didn't know you were seeing a therapist, let alone mine."

He wants to curse how rude that sounds as soon as the words leave his mouth and Barnes' expression immediately closes off.

"Yeah, uhm, for a few weeks now," he mumbles, eyes dropping to the floor. "Miss Potts set it up for me, but I can switch locations if it bothers you."

Tony knows just how convincing Pepper can be and why wouldn't he want Barnes to get help? Just because he's a mess doesn't mean Barnes should have to be.

"No, no, I'm glad you're talking to someone," Tony swallows the initial rush of fear and anxiety, hoping he doesn't look as nervous as he feels. "I'm- ah, I'm just going to let you get to it then."

Barnes nods and that's enough for Tony as he makes to get the hell out of dodge. Only when he's reached the elevator does Barnes' voice cause him to turn back around.

"Stark... you sure you're okay? You don't look too good."

Tony doesn't know what it says about him that the sentiment makes tears prick his eyes. When was the last time someone has asked if he's okay and meant it? Tony doesn't deserve the sentiment, isn't worth the time, especially from Barnes. Not after everything Tony has managed to put the man through.

"Peachy keen," Tony puts on his press smile and wills it not to wilt. Since when has smiling been so exhausting? And, because he's a masochist, he can't help but call back. "Hey, Barnes? Take care of yourself, okay?"

Tony doesn't wait for Barnes' reaction, stepping into the elevator and allowing the doors to close. If being nice to Barnes is the one thing he can do right, Tony will be happy about it.

If anyone deserves to live a good life, it's Barnes. Tony will make sure of it, even if he doesn't anticipate living to see it happen.

Yeah. That's what he's going to do.


	3. sorry there's no way out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has a plan, not unlike the one he had when he was dying of palladium poisoning. He thinks it's a bit redundant at this point, the amount of times he has almost died. Maybe one of these time it'll finally stick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: tony does intentionally do something that puts his life at risk. this chapter is not sunshine and rainbows, but there is hope for tony yet. please don't read if eating disorders, self-depreciating thoughts and attempted suicide is triggering for you. no story is worth risking your mental health!

When Tony was younger, his dad had boxes on boxes of memorabilia. The boxes were filled to the brim, some with comics, others with toys and some, the most important ones, filled with actual pieces of history from the lives of men who served.

Many people wouldn't find Tony to be sentimental. His ego is too big to have room for feelings, right? That's what people think and he's fine to let them think that.

Except, Tony is really, secretly, sentimental.

He still has the bracelet that Janet Van Dyne made him when they were 12, both too smart and rich for their own good, no idea what they wanted to do in the world except get away from their parents.

He thinks he loved Jan, can remember the way her hair smelled faintly of honey and vanilla, the way her lips felt so soft on his cheek. The bracelet is in the drawer of his bedside table and reads "genius" with yellow and blue beads. Sometimes, he takes it out just to remember the way it feels in his hands.

Jan is some big-time designer now, traveling the world to go to Fashion Week and inspire people in her own special way. Tony thinks about her sometimes in the way one often thinks of friends long since gone and wishes he would have kept in touch with her.

He thinks it might be better that he didn't. He's not sure she'd like the man he's become.

Tony still has DUM-Es first blueprints, sketched on worn napkins from the Diner he escaped to when MIT was too much, stained with coffee and pen smudged on the sides. He looks at it to remind himself of a time where creating came easy in a way that things only do when you're 15 and without the weight of the world on your shoulders. Though, Tony isn't sure Howard ever left him feeling truly weightless.

He thinks he'll give the blueprints to Peter. One, because he's one of the few that will understand them and, two, because he holds a certain fascination for the dumb bot.

Tony keeps the ticket from the first baseball game he ever took Steve to next to the bracelet. It was years ago at Fenway Park; Tony adopted the Red Sox as his team when he joined the bandwagon at MIT and the game was the only cross-division series of the season, what with the Dodgers being in the National League and the Red Sox in the American League.

Steve was stoked and Tony... Tony was just happy that Steve was happy. Sometimes he dreams that it all ended a little differently, that he'd still be able to get that sort of happiness out of Steve. He would've done anything to get Steve to smile, to laugh. Steve could cure depression with just a white-toothed smile and a flash of those baby blues.

Though, Tony supposes he's living proof that that isn't quite true, huh?

Anyways, Tony keeps a lot of the memories from his and Steve's outings: receipts from restaurants, movie stubs, a stuffed animal from Coney Island. He should have thrown it all away ages ago. Really, it's pathetic.

The point is, Tony keeps things. He likes having things that are _his_, memories that money can't buy.

And he has a dozens of those things belonging to one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes and one Captain Steven Grant Rogers in storage somewhere.

He thinks he'll leave them the information to obtain their belongings, too. It's the least he can do after causing Bucky so much pain.

Hopefully Bucky will like that. Everybody deserves to have something to remember the person they used to be.

\- - - - - -

Tony has a plan, not unlike the one he had when he was dying of palladium poisoning. He thinks it's a bit redundant at this point, the amount of times he has almost died. Maybe one of these time it'll finally stick.

So Tony is getting his things in order. He's completing paperwork weeks in advance unbeknownst to Pepper, he's creating enough functional blueprints for Stark Industries to keep the R&D department afloat until more brilliant minds like Harley and Peter can take the reigns when they're old enough, college funds and a recommendation letter to MIT for the both of them, schematics for a new arm for Bucky that he's sent to princess Shuri and an updated in-depth description of where his money, properties and resources should go in the event of an untimely demise.

He supposes it says a lot about him that the one thing he's been motivated to work on is this plan. He can't find it in him to care at the moment.

With all else aside, Tony actually feels pretty good, the best he's felt in months even.

Which is why, of course, the alarm to Assemble chooses to go off right then.  
  
  


They're Doombots because of course they are, and if Tony weren't already so exhausted he might have been happy to have something to take his frustrations out on. But he can't think about that right now.

He arrives as the rest of the team is arriving in the Quinjet and he's grateful for the fact that he didn't have to ride with them. This is the first time they're fighting together since fighting _against_ each other in Germany, Tony doesn't need to be more on edge than he already is.

Regardless, they seem able to fall into the familiarity of fighting as a team well enough, with the addition of Wilson, Barnes and the Witch in the absence of Thor and Bruce.

Barnes is a hell of a sniper from his perch on one of the taller buildings, not to mention he's just as great at hand-to-hand combat. Him and Barton are their eyes while Wilson and Tony are air support. The Witch and Rogers seem to be handling the more hands-on fighting, what with Natasha looking to shut down the bots rather than just punching her way through the battle.

"They're hive-minded," Tony doesn't think before he speaks. "We find the bot that's in charge and they'll all go down."

"All of that genius and that's all you have to offer?" Barton snarks back and the venom in his voice doesn't hurt, it _doesn't. _"What a waste."

Tony, very pointedly, ignores the familiarity of that statement.

"Do you have anything better, Barton?" Tony's voice is clipped with a hint of sass that falls flat.

"Well, I would if _someone_ would have made more trick arrows," Barton huffs like the petulant child he only pretends not to be. "Is it so hard to actually do your job?"

Tony has all kinds of responses to that without the energy to say them, but Romanoff cuts him off before he can even try.

"True, this equipment seems a little bit out-of-date," she says in-between strangling a bot with her thighs, a move that would have once made Tony stare in awe but now just sends a wave of fear curling in his gut.

"However, your suit looks very... updated, Stark," the Witch chips in and Tony can _hear_ the cruel smirk in her voice, can practically _feel_ the wisps of magic making their way back into his mind, _twisting_ and _turning_ and-

"We can talk about Tony's inability to function as a team player during the debrief," Steve's Captain voice cuts through the workings of what would surely be one of Tony's panic attacks, not that the cruel words do much more than cut him a little deeper. "Right now we need to focus on the mission."

Iron man: yes, Tony Stark: no is what runs through his mind as he shoots Doombots left and right. It doesn't come as a surprise, the obvious fact that the team has tolerated him all of these years because of Iron Man, not because they care about the man underneath. However, Tony is surprised that it still manages to hurt.

He had been characteristically naive with the team just like he always has been with those he loved in the past. He was dumb to think that Steve meant it when he said Tony was a hero, when he apologized for saying Tony wouldn't make the sacrifice play, would never lay on the wire. He believed it when Fury retracted Natasha's reports detailing textbook narcissism and tendencies to work alone.

Tony knows now that those apologies were no different from when he was 15, covering his bruised eye and split lip while Tiberius begged for Tony's forgiveness, told him he was beautiful and smart and worth it only to turn around and hit him the next time he failed to live up to his standards.

They're no different than the times Sunset told him his work was brilliant, that it would change the world, only to use sex as a distraction while she stole Stark Industries codes because _why_ would anybody want to have an actual relationship with Tony?

They're no different than Obie's praises every time Tony completed a new project only to wind up with Obie holding his heart in his hands saying _come on, you're the golden goose. The only thing you'll ever be good for is tech and weapons, you know that._

So it comes as no surprise to Tony that he is, simply, not worth it. But it does hurt. You'd think he'd be used to this having gone through it so many times but here he is.

His therapist would be proud of the revelation.

Which is why thinking of all of these things in the middle of their fight against Doom makes it so easy for him. He sees a Doombot gearing up to attack Steve from behind, and being occupied with bots in front, there will never be enough time to warn him. Tony is self-aware enough to understand that he owes Rogers absolutely nothing, is smart enough to know that Rogers would recover from the blow after a few days in the MedBay with not a single scratch on him as proof of the injury.

But he also knows that Steve has the team, has _Bucky_, and needs to be around for all of them. Tony might be a selfish asshole but he's man enough to admit that people like to follow Rogers, they see him as a good leader, a good man, and who would Tony be to take their Captain away from them?

Tony knows he should be stronger, shouldn't bend so easily to the will of those who have hurt him. A voice that sounds too much like Howard tells him that he's weak and Tony doesn't disagree. In another time in his life, Tony would make the rogue Avengers regret their choices and beg for his forgiveness. Objectively, Tony knows he's more than capable of doing that now if he really wanted to. But Tony is nothing more than an empty shell of the man he used to be, he's so tired, so weak and he can't remember the man who walked out of a cave in Afghanistan with nothing more than his will to survive and a desire to prove everyone wrong.

It sounds exhausting, really.

So more than anything, Tony knows that Steve wants to live. And Tony, well... Tony can't say the same.

So, really, it's easy for Tony to make the split-second decision and get in-between Steve and the fatal bot, it's easy for Tony to stand his ground and take the hit, easier, even, to do nothing and let the sharp metal of the Doombot's arm pierce through the metal of the suit and continue through his stomach, just inches below where the new arc reactor sits in his sternum.

It's easy to ignore the voices on the comms, easy to pretend like the team might actually care that he's injured. It's easy to feel the pain, to welcome it in like an old friend who has been gone for too long. And it's very easy, probably too easy, to let black spots cover his vision, to imagine he's seeing silver-blue eyes looking down at him in worry and, hey, those look a lot like Bucky's eyes.

It's more than easy to let his eyes slip close, to let his whole world be completely encompassed in black. Yeah, it's more than easy. It's a relief.

\- - - - - -

He tends to avoid hospitals. Something about seeing people hooked up to machines, IVs and cords takes him back to a place that he really tries to avoid. It takes him back to a chair and a device and the cold and... yeah. He thinks it's understandable as to why he'd avoid places like this.

Except he can't make himself stay away this time.

He can't make himself go inside the room, can get a good enough look from the outside. But he supposes that's not quite true, is it? He always stays on the outside, and he was content to let that happen, content to let what everyone else said fill in the rest of his knowledge.

His therapist says he's avoiding the real world, pushing away social interaction because it's easier to fall back on 70 years of training. Assets don't speak unless spoken to, they don't need to.

She also says he's scared, which... the Winter Soldier doesn't get scared.

But he supposes Bucky Barnes does.

It's fear that makes him stay on the outside of the one-bed hospital room, gazing in from the inside but refusing to take the extra step forward. It's avoidance that's let him believe the things that Steve has told him, that Natalia has told him.

Echoes of words and terms fly through his mind: selfish, narcissistic, loose canon, too smart for his own good. He had watched him in the suit, all snark and confidence and had taken Steve's words at face value. He'd seen the videos, all reckless power and smug statements. He'd seen the man smirk, throw out a salute wearing a pair of tinted sunglasses and thought "how can anyone be so careless?"

Now, looking through the window of the hospital room, he thinks Stark just looks small.

His face is a mess of bruises and one ankle is fractured from landing so suddenly. Two ribs are cracked and underneath a thick layer of bandages is what he knows are stitches holding the gaping hole in his chest together, right under the shining blue of the arc reactor. He's thin, too, ribs more visible than what is considered to be healthy. The doctors say he's malnourished.

He was starving himself, whether intentional or not.

He looks paler than any human has any right to be and, most alarmingly, he's completely still.

Bucky doesn't think he's ever seen the man completely still.

It's been a week since Stark took the hit meant for Steve and Bucky still hasn't been able to piece the events of that day together. The first two days when the doctors weren't sure if he was going to make it and Doctor Helen Cho said it was too dangerous to use the cradle, which Bucky was told regenerates actual skin tissue, because it would try to push out the arc reactor, which Bucky didn't know Stark had to have inserted into his chest for the second time, he got a message from Princess Shuri of Wakanda. A message saying that Stark had created a new arm for him that was to be gifted to Bucky in the event of something that put Stark out of commission.

Then Steve had received a key. It was a key to a storage unit in the middle of Manhattan that held all of the things that Howard had collected over the years, most of it artifacts from Bucky and Steve's old lives. There was no note that accompanied the key, but Bucky is pretty sure of where it came from.

Bucky doesn't believe in coincidences. He believes, or doesn't believe, in people and trusts the facts lying in front of him. The fact is, Stark planned for this. He planned on dying and, if the gift of the new arm is anything to go by, he planned on it happening sooner rather than later.

All signs point to Stark doing this intentionally, and Bucky knows better than to think Stark didn't calculate the probability of his survival before that taking that hit for Steve.

Bucky just can't figure out why.

He's not sure if it's the curiosity that makes him do it, or maybe he's just sick of being so scared all the time, but he lets himself into Stark's room later that morning.

Nobody else is in there. In fact, Bucky isn't sure he's seen people around in the last few days.

The spider boy stops by every day after school and keeps Stark up to date on the latest projects him and some kid named Harley are working on via Facetime. Apparently it's something big. He also tells Stark stories about some girl named MJ.

Colonel Rhodes was here at first before flying back to base after being assured Tony would recover; he supposes that even with prosthetics, the Colonel is still useful to the weapons division of the military. After all, Bucky would know all about being more than capable even with a metal prosthetic. The esteemed Pepper Potts had made an appearance as well, briefly, shedding a few tears and staying a few hours before leaving just as composed as she came.

Steve came by with Sam a few times in the beginning, playing the part of the worried team Captain. Natasha dropped by once, Bucky saw her talking to Stark one afternoon, not that Stark was doing any responding. She was the only one who noticed Bucky was there.

So Bucky decides to go into the room and just... sit in silence. Under different circumstances, specifically if Stark were conscious and the smell of anesthetic didn't make him want to hurl, it'd almost be nice. It isn't different from what Bucky usually does— he sits in silence more often than not, he never knows what to say— but here he doesn't have to put up a facade to reassure anyone. He doesn't have to act like Bucky Barnes because Steve keeps looking at him, expecting him to magically be the person he was 70 years ago. He can just sit in silence with Stark and be the empty shell of his old self without having to do something _more_.

He can just sit with Stark, thinking it ironic how two broken men made of metal could end up like this, both doing their fair share of hurting the other. If Bucky believed in that sort of nonsense, he might even say they're a lot like kindred spirits.

So it makes sense that he's here sitting silently in the chair and staring at the ugly light green wall with just his thoughts, the sound of the heart monitor and the gentle whirring of the arc reactor. It's comfortable and easy.

He's still sitting like that hours later when Stark starts to stir.

It's clear he's out of it the second he opens his eyes, eyelids still half open and big brown orbs shooting side-to-side before falling closed again.

Stark groans once and goes to move his arms only to find them lightly secured to the bed in order to prevent him moving around and reopening the stitches holding the hole in his chest together.

"Oh, great," he moans and lets his head fall back to the pillow. "S'a hospital. Course s'a hospital."

The drugs are clearly doing their job giving Stark less of a filter and more of a slur. Bucky finds himself thinking it's actually pretty cute before mentally chastising himself. That's not what he's here for and not something he would ever expect to deserve.

When Stark's big brown eyes find Bucky sitting in the corner, they widen slightly before going back to normal, a pitiful grin stretching across Stark's lips as he laughs maniacally.

Seriously, he really does have the whole mad scientist thing going for him.

"Fever dream," he manages to say in-between fits of laughter. "M' havin' a fever dream bout _Bucky Barnes_. Hah. Perfect."

Bucky knows, morally, that he should correct him. He should tell Stark that he's very real and concerned about him. Clearly, Stark is out of it and Bucky shouldn't be taking advantage of his compromised state. Hell, him and Stark aren't even _friends_, he probably doesn't even want Bucky here. And Bucky is going to say all of that to Stark, he _is, _but Stark is off talking again before Bucky can even start.

"S' a hospital. So m' alive," Stark remarks, not surprised but not exactly happy either. He's still snickering at his own private joke, a little breathless with all of his injuries. "Tell me, d'we win? S' everyone okay?"

He doesn't ask about his own injuries which... based on the information Bucky has been given, should be the first thing he asks about. Bucky is beginning to think that the information he has on Stark may be a little one-sided.

"We won," Bucky replies. "Everyone is fine."

"Good, m' glad." And Stark must mean it because he visibly relaxes, falling boneless into the bed but leaving his eyes open. They drift to Bucky's new appendage with obvious delight. "S' a nice arm. Vib-ran-i-um. Shiny," he sounds the word out like he wouldn't be able to say it otherwise and his fingers flex in their restraints as though he wishes to reach out.

He looks, for all intents and purposes, like a child reaching for a new toy with those huge brown eyes and soft, curious smile.

He looks nothing like a man who harms others without care, who doesn't think about who his mistakes end up hurting. It's safe to say that Bucky is confused. And embarrassed because he's supposed to be a master assassin for crying out loud, how did he not piece all of this together before?

"Why did you make this for me, Stark?"

Stark's eyebrows draw together as his forehead wrinkles in a visible sign of confusion or distaste, Bucky isn't sure which. 

"S' what I do. Make things. Also Stark was my father, but guess you know that."

He waits for Stark to move on to the portion of this talk where he blames Bucky for his parents' death, waits for the yelling and screaming now that the drugs seem to give Stark less of a filter than usual. But the fight never comes. If anything, Stark looks resigned. He looks tired.

"Wonder what he'd think now, dear ole' dad," he laughs, bitter and dry, entirely self-depreciating and with no humor. "Useless. Failure of a son. Can't even kill myself correctly."

Despite being a battle-hardened assassin who's more than capable of concealing his emotions, Bucky can't help his startled intake of breath because Stark just admitted to trying to end his life and that is not something Bucky takes lightly.

"Relax, Robocop," Stark chuckles. "S' no big deal."

"No big deal? Stark- _Tony_," Bucky tries to stress the severity of the situation, but Tony doesn't seem the least bit bothered. As a matter of fact he simply shrugs before shifting his eyes to the ceiling.

"S' my destiny. Everyone dies. Shouldn't even be alive," he frowns and moves his hands in their soft restraints. "S' hard, you know? Right, fever dream, you _don't_ know. No one does, not really. Usedta make weapons that killed people, lotsa people, and I tried to be better. Tried not to waste my life. But m' the Merchant of Death n' selfish. Iron Man, yes: Tony, no. Never make sacrifices. Hurt people I care bout. Try to help n' hurt more people. Try to help n' break up the 'Vengers. Lose Steve. Lose the team. S' alotta guilt. Can only see death n' wormholes to space. Hurts. Jus' don't wanna hurt anymore. M' a man with everything n' nothing." He pauses then more thoughtful than sad. "Everything n' nothing, still the same as before."

And there's a lot to unravel there what with Tony on a drug-induced ramble causing him to slur his words, but Bucky thinks he has enough to understand. He doesn't like what he hears.

"That's not true, people care about you, Tony," Bucky says earnestly. "You're important. Nothing would function correctly without you."

"No," Tony shakes his head decidedly. "People care bout' what I can do _for_ them. They care bout money and geniusness and Iron Man. Not Tony. Never Tony."

Bucky thinks about that, _really_ thinks about it, because when is the last time he's seen someone talk to Tony when they didn't need something? When he wasn't in the Iron Man armor or at a debriefing? Hell, the most the team has seen Tony has been in the past week and he was _unconscious_ for it, how sick is that? It makes Bucky's chest hurt because he knows what it's like to be used and put away wet, only pulled out again the next time someone needs something for you.

It's hard to feel human when people only treat you like a machine. No wonder Tony is so tired of it.

"Shoulda jus' killed me in Siberia," Stark mumbles, drugs already pulling him back under. "Put us all outta our misery."

Bucky, who hasn't cried since becoming the Winter Soldier, feels like he just might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all, i know it's been awhile, i'm sorry about that. i'm on winter break now so this story should be finished up within the next few weeks, i promise i will try my absolute hardest.


End file.
